


Fallen Angel

by Avynn_Marie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring John Winchester, F/M, Protective John Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 00:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14580771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avynn_Marie/pseuds/Avynn_Marie
Summary: TRIGGER WARNING - DEPICTIONS OF DOMESTIC ABUSE.John/Original Female Character pairingCole Sawyer is on the run from her abusive past when she falls into the hands of John Winchester and is plunged into the world of the Supernatural.  The duo end up making quite the team of hunters on the road.  Feelings begin to grow and romance ensues.  But will they be able to save themselves from each other’s demons?





	Fallen Angel

Thunder rumbled and lightning cracked across the sky as I exited the motel lobby.  I shoved the room key in my pocket as I made my way across the parking lot to the rundown bar at the other end.  I needed to feel numb, just erase my memories for a while.  It had been three days since I had packed my shit and walked out; I jumped in my truck and just drove.  I didn’t know where I was going or what I planned on doing, I just needed to put distance between that town…that life…the asshole excuse for a boyfriend…

My boots clunked on the pavement as the cool, stormy air snaked around my body sending a slight shiver up my spine.  Maybe I should’ve worn a jacket instead of just a tank top…  I didn’t care who saw the bruises on my arms and face.  The ones on my arms were fading but my black eye and bruised jaw were fresh.

I hugged my arms around my body as I neared the end of the lot, my pace quickening some as the rain began to fall.  I reached the entrance and yanked the door open.  Standing for a moment, I surveyed the interior as the door squeaked shut behind me.  I eyed the available stools at the bar and made my way to the far end to one that had a clear view of the entire establishment and its exits.  I moved my way through the bar being careful to avoid eye contact with anyone.  The air was full of a mixture of cigarettes and stale beer.  I could feel eyes on me as I made my way over to the stool.  Everyone always judged and gawked.  I ignored it and eased myself onto the cushion, the bartender stepping to stand in front of me.  

“What’ll it be little lady?”  He was an older gentleman, his voice was scratchy but kind, his features rough but soft.   

I met his blue eyes and forced a small smile.  "Whiskey…please.“

He eyed me as he finished wiping a glass and set it in front of me as he retrieved a bottle from under the bar.  His gaze wandered from the purple bruise around my eye running down the side of my face and jaw to the ones on my arms and wrists.  My gaze turned stony as his eyes returned to mine after he finished pouring my drink, my look daring him to say something.  He gave me a slight nod. 

"Just holler if you need anything, sweetheart.”  He held my gaze for a moment and then moved off to the other patrons.

I leaned my head back and downed my drink in one shot.  The smooth caramel colored poison burned and a warmth spread through my chest.  I closed my eyes for a second, reveling in the familiarity that I had missed so much.  I glanced down at the bartender, his eyes met mine and he gave me a small smile and nod as he returned to fill my glass, this time up to the rim.  

I took my glass, taking slower drags off it.  I sighed, dropping my shoulders some as I leaned my forearms onto the bar.  I stared down at my drink, my reflection gazing back.  I almost didn’t recognize the girl staring back at me.  I had changed so much in the past six months.  My eyes were hardened, sunken in slightly.  My skin pale.  Then my thoughts drifted to him.  What the fuck was I doing?  How did I get to this point?  I should’ve left the first time that fucker raised his hand to me…but I was stupid, broke with no where else to go, no friends, no family…all I had was my truck, what was I supposed to do?  Live out of it?  At the time, it seemed like a stupid idea and I never went for it.  Now, it was a welcomed commodity compared to the daily hell at the apartment.

I downed the rest of my second glass and the bartender filled my third. I dropped my head and held my breath, fighting back the tears that had started to sting my eyes.  No fucking way was I going to start crying in a bar.  I took a deep breath and ran a hand through my hair before drinking more of my whiskey.  The gentle slight numbness was starting to creep into my mind.  Good, I needed to drown out his memory….  

**

I had no idea how long I had spent in that bar.  I had put quite the dent in the bottle of whiskey and the familiar buzz had started to set itself in.  I didn’t have to look around to know that most of the bar had cleared out by now.  There were only about three other patrons besides me from what I could tell.

I suddenly felt eyes on me.  I glanced up to the man across the other end of the bar.  He was roughly 50 years old, black short semi wavy hair and a two day salt and pepper beard.  His eyes were stone with an expression of harsh concern and slight anger.  I moved my hair to cover some of my face and narrowed my eyes at him, downing the rest of my whiskey and motioned for a refill to the bartender.  He obliged and went back to cleaning off tables.  
  
I dropped my eyes from the man and stared into my glass.  I didn’t need pity or anyone’s concern, especially from someone who appeared to be twice my age.  I could take care of myself.  I just had to figure out how exactly I was going to do that.  
  
I took a few sips of the whiskey and fell into my thoughts.  What the fuck had my life become?  

My thoughts were jarred as I saw the man stand from his stool and slowly make his way over to me.  

Shit.  

He stopped at the stool on the corner next to me.  

“May I?”  His husky voice had a drawl to it that was intriguing.  

I sighed.  I could tell there was no way he would leave this alone.  Without glancing up at him I nodded and motioned for him to sit.

“Thank you.”  He set his glass of whiskey down and eased onto the stool, slightly leaning in towards me, but not too much.  "I’m not trying to intrude…I just want to make sure you’re alright.“

"I’m fine.”  I stated flatly as I took another gulp of whiskey.

“Judging by the way you’ve been knocking back the whiskey, I’d have to say that you’re not.”  His tone was stern but had an underlying to it that calmed me.  This man meant me no harm, he was simply trying to help.

I sighed and tucked my hair back behind my ear and met his gaze, tears slightly stinging in my eyes.  "Thanks…but honestly.  I’ll be alright.“

He paused for a moment, eyeing me before he held his hand out towards me.  "I’m John.”  His features softened some as he actually looked at me and not my bruises.

I clasped my hand in his, giving it a small shake.  "Cole.“

He released my hand and sat back a bit with a small, intrigued smile.  "Cole?  Short for Nicole I presume?”  

I returned his smile slightly.  "I don’t like Nicole.  Cole fits me better.“  

He nodded as he took another drink.  "I like it.”

We talked for a while about anything and nothing in particular.  Just two random people at a bar getting to know one another.  Well….one man trying to comfort and make sure that an injured girl was really as ok as she insisted she was.

He excused himself to the restroom after a while.  I sat there for a moment, fumbling with my glass as I smiled slightly.  This man…John…had comforted me tonight.  When I thought all was lost and there’d be no way I’d make it on my own…he was like a shining light that gave me strength just when I needed it.  
  
I heard the door open to the bar but didn’t care to look up, probably some drunk finding his way in from the motel or some lonely truck driver looking for a night cap.  Only when a looming presence stepped between me and the next stool, and the smell of his aftershave hit me is when I realized who had walked in.

Jason…  
  
“Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”  His voice growled against my ear.  
  
I stiffened and gripped my glass, refusing to look at him.  My heart pounded against my ribs as I could feel his breath against my ear and neck.  "Thought I made it quite clear.“  I raised my glass up and took a shot off of it, desperately trying to stay composed.  
  
He grabbed my upper arm forcefully and gave me a slight shake.  I cringed slightly and tilted my head away from him as he leaned his face closer to me.   "You’re coming back home with me.  Now.”  He seethed.  
  
“And what the fuck makes you think that I would?!”  I barked at Jason, ripping my arm from his grasp.  "We’re done!   Get it through your fucking head!“  I downed the rest of my glass and stood, throwing money on the bar top.  I glanced up towards the bathrooms wondering where John was.  My gaze met his as he entered from the hallway.  Realization and anger flooding over his face as he took in the scene from across the bar.  
  
Jason grabbed my arm painfully as I tried to move past him, his fingers digging into the already bruised muscles.  Fury burned inside of me at this point.  I was done being a punching bag.  Done being walked on like a doormat.  Just fucking done!  I spun around and threw all of my weight into my fist.  This caught him off guard… I had never struck him back before.  My fist landed right square on his nose.  Satisfaction rushing through me as I felt the crunch beneath my knuckles.  His hand released my arm and I stepped back, rolling my shoulders.    
  
"You fucking bitch!”  He yelled as he held his face, his eyes clenched shut as blood gushed from his nose.  This bought me some time since he couldn’t see for a few moments.  I turned and stormed out of the bar.  Not before seeing John making his way over.  
  
I managed to make it a quarter of the way across the lot before Jason was barreling through the door behind me.  
  
“Nicole!!”  He hollered.  I heard him racing towards me and I picked up my pace, although trying to sprint in a whiskey buzzed state is not the best idea.  
  
Then it happened.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back.  Pain seared through my head and neck at the onslaught.  My knees buckled and I cried out, desperately clawing at his hand.    
  
“You think you can fucking hit me and get away with it, bitch!”  He yanked me around to face him.    
  
“Jason stop!”  I screamed.   My eyes looked up at his sneering, bloody face as he raised his other fist.  I managed to gather my legs beneath me and planted a swift knee to his groin.  He groaned and doubled over but his hand kept it’s hold on my hair, yanking me around.  I tried kicking him again but he recovered too quickly and slammed his fist against the side of my face.  Stars sparked in my eyes at the impact.  Dazed, I couldn’t fight back as Jason knocked me to the ground and sat on top of me.  He grabbed my head and in one swift motion he lifted and slammed it to the pavement.  Bright white lightning flashed across my vision.  My body went limp against the blacktop.  My vision blurred and my hearing sounded like I was underwater.  I blinked slowly, trying to focus.  I saw Jason’s face, but then he was jerked backwards off of me.  

 What… I couldn’t see straight, everything was out of focus.  Someone … someone was fighting Jason…?  

 I tried moving but searing pain shot through my temples at the slight movement.  My vision darkened as I tried to stay awake.  I couldn’t black out now, not with Jason here.  He’d kidnap me!  I forced all of my might to keep my eyes open as my vision continued to darken.

“Hey… hey stay with me, sweetheart.”  A man I didn’t recognize right away was suddenly standing over me.  I struggled to focus on his face, everything was blurring and swirling.  I managed one look before the darkness enveloped me…  
  
…it was John.


End file.
